


Thursdays in the Room of Requirement

by SamReiGel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamReiGel/pseuds/SamReiGel
Summary: Draco Malfoy stumbles upon The Boy Who Lived playing a very unexpected musical instrument.





	Thursdays in the Room of Requirement

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a one-shot I wrote just for fun.

Draco Malfoy made his way to the seventh floor of Hogwarts and stopped in front of the Room of Requirement as he had done all year. He didn’t usually come on Thursdays such as this, but Snape was called away for the day hence there was no Potions class to occupy the remainder of his schedule. There he wished for the room of hidden things, and the doors opened for him. As he continued his usual path, he realised something different. There was music.

It sounded like a piano at first. As he approached the source of the music slowly, he then decided it was something rougher than a piano, a string instrument that makes melody from direct strumming of fingers. A guitar…? No, it was softer, gentler…

Draco stopped as he saw Harry Potter bent over a giant harp, playing the instrument with much fervour. He silently moved behind a row of tables stacked on top of each other, making himself completely hidden while at the same time giving him clear view of the other boy who hadn’t noticed him.

Harry was sitting on a stool, his right shoulder leaning on the harp, his hands on either side letting his fingers strum the strings softly, his eyes closed.

At first Draco snorted in disbelief. Harps were for girls! They were meant for thin, slender, and fair hands of women. Small wonder why they always had angels playing the harp. It was meant to look elegant, pure, and beautiful. Harry’s hands were wide and his fingers short, looking every bit as out of place.

But as Harry kept playing with his eyes closed, the music went on. Yes his hands were a bit too masculine for the harp, but his rolled up sleeves exposed just how pale he actually was. He had skin fairer than him, Draco realised. The long dark lashes unobstructed by glasses which Harry had taken off suddenly made him look like a different person. His dark hair, pale skin, and lush lips had Draco taken aback. Harry kept the strumming of his fingers steady, keeping to the melody in his head, gently, softly, as if he was handling a lover. Harry was beautiful.

Draco couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Even as Harry’s fingers stopped and he opened his green, green eyes, Draco was held in a trance as if it wasn’t yet over. Then Harry’s fingers continued their strumming, continuing the melody, and he closed his eyes again. He played the rest of the song, and Draco kept watching. Slowly but surely, the melody slowed down, and the song ended. Harry lowered his hands and opened his eyes. He exhaled.

“Well, that sucked” Harry said out loud to himself.

Draco choked back a laugh. He was making choking sounds despite himself, but fortunately Harry hadn’t heard any of it. The dark-haired boy took his glasses from a nearby table and left.

Apparently Harry only came to play on the intervals when Draco had class. He’d confirmed this by skipping all those classes. Harry played many different songs, some upbeat and lively, others slow and soothing, and he even recognized classics such as J.S Bach Toccata and Fugue which Harry had transcribed for the harp. Draco especially loved it when Harry played the classics. It was amazing to watch him play. Then came the day when Harry discovered him listening.

Draco had dragged a couch behind a stack of chairs right in front of the space Harry used and laid on it every time he played. The chairs allowed him to listen to the music without Harry knowing at all. However on that particular day, when Draco was enjoying Harry’s playing of Clair de Lune, for some unfathomable reason, a chair decided to fall off the stack, bringing all the other chairs to crumple on the floor. Draco had scrambled out of the way as fast as he could. He was on his feet and staring at the fallen chairs when he realized he was now in full view of the other boy. He slowly turned his head to look at Harry whose hands were paused on the strings.

The silence was deafening.

Harry turned his head to look around. He then spotted something and said

“There’s an armchair over there. You can sit there, I think”

Draco did the only thing that made sense to him at that moment. He ran away.

He tried his best to ignore the urge to go back to the Room on days when Harry played. He really did. But on Thursday the next week, he found himself standing in front of the Room of Requirement yet again. He swallowed hard and went in.

When he took his seat on the armchair in the middle of Harry’s Debussy Deux Arabesques, he noticed a small smile playing on the boy’s lips. It sent a tingling somewhere in his chest, giving him goose bumps and he shivered.

From then on, Harry would play the harp and Draco would listen silently every other day. They were finally enjoying time in each other’s company. It was such a comfortable feeling that Draco would sometimes doze off to the music, watching the strumming of Harry’s fingers, his gentle form imprinted in his eyelids.

“What song was that?” Draco asked after Harry had finished his song.

“It’s a harp rendition of a Muggle song” Harry answered.

“I see”

Draco went back to his reading. It’s been a month or so since Draco barged into Harry’s practices. Harry never seemed to mind his presence so Draco took it as a good sign to keep coming back. They would sometimes exchange a word, even share a laugh, and talk as if they hadn’t been trying to kill each other since first year. If Draco fell asleep, Harry would wake him up when he’s done practicing. But Draco would always get grumpy tell him to go away, so Harry would just leave him there.

This time though, as Draco’s subconscious realized the absence of music, which usually indicated that Harry was done and had left, as he slowly rose from his nap he noticed something off. Something was on his mouth and his face felt warm. When he opened his eyes, he saw Harry Potter in front of him. He was about to ask why his face was so close when he realized he couldn’t move his lips, and Harry opened his eyes.

The other boy quickly backed away, flustering.

“What happened?” Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Er.. you fell asleep again. I tried to wake you up. Then I thought I shouldn’t. I didn’t really do anything. I just, er..” Harry said hastily.

Draco traced his lower lip with his thumb and slowly realized it. He looked up to Harry. The boy was now completely red.

Draco stood and walked towards him, suddenly feeling confident in Harry’s nervousness. Harry was going to step back but Draco grabbed the back of his head, gently but surely, and closed in for a kiss. Harry was surprised at first but soon kissed back eagerly as if he’d wanted to do it for a while now. The thought did funny things to his heart but Draco liked it. He sucked and nipped as if Harry was candy, so lavishly until they were both breathless.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily. Harry’s eyes were glazed and his lips redder than ever. The wild expression on his face almost said that he didn’t know what he was doing. Draco liked seeing this part of him. Thinking back to all those years chasing Harry, taunting him and picking fights, Draco now realized this was what he wanted. What he always wanted.

_Finally,_ he thought.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing” he replied. He didn’t realize he’d said that out loud.

Harry smiled.

“Finally” he said.


End file.
